The Elite Kings Club

had stare-downs to compare anything to besides the night he made Brantley leave me alone.
“Take her home.” Bishop doesn’t look at me; he looks straight at Nate.
“We can’t do that,” Brantley growls from a dark corner, his hoodie still over his face. Bishop still has his on too, along with his loose expensive-looking destroyed jeans.
Bishop looks directly at Brantley this time. “We’re taking her home.”
“Um, not to be a pain in the ass or anything, but you guys owe me an explanation. You pulled me out of bed at three in the morning, kidnap me, and then...” I look directly at Bishop this time, his eyes peering straight back from under his hood. Damn. Focus. “...kiss me. What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” Bishop says, his eyes not moving from me. “At least not now.”
“Hmm, see, I have a problem with tha—”
His hand comes out to mine, and then he tugs on me roughly until I’m on his lap, straddling him.
“What are you doing?” I push on his chest. Hard chest—check! One of his hands snakes up my spine and then toward the back of my neck, while his other remains clenched on my hip. He pulls my face down to meet his until his lips are skimming over mine. “Whatever the fuck I want to do. Now, do us all a favor, and shut your fucking mouth.”
I slam my mouth shut, my teeth pulling in my bottom lip. His eyes drop to my mouth before coming back to my eyes.
“I just realized I’m still in my pajamas. Yes, I want to go home. Take me home.” I climb off his lap and his grip on me loosens after a few seconds. Plopping down beside him, I look at Nate. “Fuck you.”
“Oh, you love me.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I don’t.”
“Sure you do.” He grins at me. “I’m sorry, kitten.”
“Nope.” I shake my head, pulling my hair out of its ponytail before raking my fingers through and pulling it back to the top of my head. “I’m not cool with kitten either.”
“But it’s cute.” Nate grins.
“Exactly, and I’m not.”
“Truth,” Brantley murmurs. “She’s fucking annoying. Call her... rat.”
I flip him off, and his eyes darken, but not in the way Bishop’s do. In a way that would probably send chills down my spine, because I’m 100 percent certain he hates me.
We’re pulling back up our private driveway, and when the car stops, I go to launch out the door.
“Wait!” Nate halts me. “I’m serious, sis. You can’t tell anyone about what happened tonight.”
“What the fuck did happen tonight?” I ask, looking at all of them.
“We—I can’t talk about it with you.”
“Well, why fucking kidnap me then?” I’m looking directly at Nate now. “Why not just say to me, ‘Oh hey, wanna play Truth or Dare?’ Like, fuck, Nate!”
“Fuck,” he grunts and then looks to Bishop. “We should have done that.”
Bishop shrugs. “Never played that fucking game, and ain’t about to start.” Bishop then looks to me. “And that ain’t what we’re about, Kitty.”
“Oh! No you—”
Nate pushes me out and then slams the door. My mouth drops open at the closed door just as the stretched Hummer starts to pull out. I bring my hand up and flip them off, not doubting they’d be able to see, before I stomp up the marble stairs and then to the heavy double doors. A yawn slips past my mouth, and when I see the large clock that hangs on the feature wall inside the sitting room, I know why. The sun is about to come up, and I don’t want to risk waking Tatum or having her inquire where I’ve been, so I walk into the living room. After removing my shoes, I pull down the throw from the back of the couch and curl into the warm, soft blanket.

MY LEG FEELS HEAVY, AND the first thing I smell is—
“Bacon!” My eyes pop open.
Tatum walks into the sitting room with a frying pan in her hand and her hair already flat-ironed dead straight. “Get up, we need to have breakfast and then we need to leave.”
I groan, leaning back into the couch. “School.”
“Yes!” she hisses. “School! And by the way, if my snoring annoyed you so bad, you should have kicked me out. You didn’t have to sleep out here.”
“No!” I shake my head. “That wasn’t it. I just struggle to sleep with other people.” Not entirely a lie. I’m actually not the best sleeper when it comes to sleeping around other people. I get anxiety. Am I breathing too much? What if I accidently touch them in my sleep? Not in a sexual way, but yes, what if in a sexual way? I don’t do well with it. I’m much more comfortable sleeping on my own. Also, I don’t share covers. Ever.
Tatum rolls her eyes, sensing my lie, but not knowing what part or why. “Come on. Breakfast time.”
I push up off the couch. “I’ll be out in a second. I’m going to jump in the shower.” Climbing the stairs, I walk into my room and consider checking to see if Nate is in his room, but think better of it. Asshole. I don’t know what the hell that was about this morning. Do I want to know more? Yes, probably. But am I angry more than anything? Yes. I’ve also come to the conclusion—between my trip from the couch to my room—that they’re a seriously fucked up group of friends. Not only are they edgy, mysterious, and bossy, but they’re... alluring. Exactly why I must stay away from them at all cost. Especially Bishop Vincent fucking Hayes. Motherfucker kissed me! And... and I loved it.
Cursing at myself under my breath, I make a mental note to go shooting after school. Since it is Friday and no doubt Tatum will want to do something this weekend, it’ll be better if I get it out of the way early. I pull down some army green skinny pants